


Normal Love and Superheroes

by romanticgumtochew



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Big RomCom Energy, But a Loveable Little Shit, Cheesy, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Love Triangles, Main Character Is a Little Shit, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 18:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticgumtochew/pseuds/romanticgumtochew
Summary: Leena Duckett has had a hard year after being cheated on by high-school sweetheart Jacob Grayson. She's working two jobs, living in a studio apartment with long-time friend Jamie, her art career has yet to take off, and she hasn't been on a date in a very....Very long time. But things take a turn when she meets friendly officer John Blake and billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. Just when it looks like Leena is finally getting turned around, Jacob comes back into town with the intent of getting her back. The only question is: Who will she choose? The officer or the boy she's familiar with?
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Original Female Character(s), John Blake/Original Female Character(s)





	1. the orange streak of lightening

“Goodnight, Mr. Nooley.” Leena waved to the Gotham Community Center director as she stood in the threshold of the exit. 

“Goodnight, Leena, and be safe on your way home.” 

She smiled at the middle-aged, balding man one last time before finally exiting the building. It was late, as per usual when she left the community center after her days of volunteering. But Leena always thought that Gotham was far more beautiful at night. The skyscrapers towering miles above her, all of them aglow with the evidence of late-night workers or families safe inside their apartments. She tugged her baggy sweater tighter around her to ward off the chill that had taken over the air after the sun went down. Fall was nearly in full effect for Gotham. A time of year that Leena loved. 

With pinked cheeks and nose from the sudden cold, Leena headed west. A block away from the community center to where her bike was safely locked to the nearest available bike rack when she arrived that afternoon. Her stomach grumbled. She could already picture herself in the tiny kitchen of her shared studio apartment. A pasta dish was due on a night like this. Something that paired nicely with white wine. Leena was already licking her lips in anticipation of it. 

When she got closer to the bike rack, however, she noticed a man standing in the lamplight. There were a few other bikes locked to the rack, so she moved to the curb a few feet away from the man and waited for him to be done with his own bike. 

The man, dressed in a coat maybe a farmer would wear and jeans, was taking a long time to lock up his bike. And, wanting to be nice — 

“Do you need some help?” she asked, taking a tentative step forward. 

He turned. And it wasn’t until then that she noticed it. His grubby, stubbled face. His severe frown. The bolt cutters in his hand, with the jaws around the lock attached to  _ her bike _ . 

Leena’s eyebrows furrowed, the grip she had on her bag tightened. “Hey, wait a minute — “ 

But it was too late. There was a distinct, metallic  _ snap _ as the bolt cutters went through her lock. She moved forward to stop him, knowing in the back of her mind that she would never be able to take on a man that size. He quickly ripped the lock from the bike and hopped onto the seat.

“Stop! Stop!” she shouted. 

But he didn’t stop. He took off down the sidewalk at breakneck speed. She didn’t even bother to run after him. 

“Did that really just happen?” she asked the empty street as she watched the thief and her bike disappear into the darkness. 

In shock, Leena sat down on the curb. What was she supposed to do now? That stupid bike was her only mode of transportation around the city. And her apartment was too far away to walk, she’d either freeze or get robbed,  _ again _ . Especially in this city. She checked her wallet for money for the bus. That was a no-go. Not even a sorry penny to her name at the moment. She refused to call her parents who lived outside the city proper. They’d never let her hear the end of it and force her by guilt alone to move back out there with them. So, instead, she pulled out her RAZR and called her roommate Jamie. It was only six o’clock, she was bound to be awake for a few more hours. 

It went straight to voicemail. 

She tried again. 

Voicemail. 

One last time for good luck. 

Voicemail. 

Leena groaned, head tilted towards the black night sky. What the heck was she supposed to do  _ now _ ? Even still, she wasn’t going to call her parents. It would be embarrassing and it would take them nearly an hour to get into the city. So, with one last grimace to the universe, Leena dialed 911. 

Her insides felt like they were being pulled down by an invisible string. What was that? Embarrassment? Shame? Anxiety? Maybe a bit of all three? Either way, she hated this. Her bike was gone. She was cold. And now she was calling 911 for the first time in her twenty years of life. 

The other line had barely even started ringing before a stern, feminine voice answered, “911, what is your emergency?” 

“Uh, yeah, I’d like to report a robbery — or — er — a theft? I guess?” 

“Ma’am are you in any immediate danger? Is the thief still present?” 

“No, no, I’m fine. He’s gone. He stole my bike.” 

“So this is not an active emergency.” 

“Correct.” Leena fiddled with the strap of her bag sitting in her lap. Her bottom was starting to get cold from the concrete. 

“Alright, ma’am, did you get a good look at the suspect?” Though it was slight, Leena could tell that the dispatcher was annoyed that this wasn’t an emergency that needed GCPD’s immediate attention. 

“Yes, I did. He was on 14th street headed west — on — on a bright orange bike.” She could feel her embarrassment, like a bubble, welling up inside her. Forcing unwanted tears to prick the backs of her eyes. She felt so stupid right now. 

“And are you alone?” 

Leena hated the tears that slipped from her eyes as she whispered, “Yes.” 

“Okay. We’ll send an officer to get your statement in the morning. What is your home address?” The dispatcher hadn’t seemed to notice Leena’s building up of emotion. 

“But — But…I have no way home.” The pathetic, childish words couldn’t be stopped before they escaped past her lips. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean — “ 

The dispatcher’s voice took on a warm tone. As if she finally understood. “It’s alright, hon.” For some reason, the term of endearment made Leena cry more. “Just sit tight. An officer is on their way now. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?” 

Leena wiped furiously at her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. “No. No. That’s okay. You probably have more important things to do.” 

“Alright, ma’am. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” 

The line went dead and Leena stowed her phone away in her overstuffed bag. She then hugged her knees to her chest, put her head down, and waited. A few cars went by, but nobody was walking the streets. Especially not at night. Especially not after all that clown stuff with the mob went down a few months ago. She had heard from her roommate Jamie that some local ordinance was going through city council to get the rest of the criminals off the streets. But for now, most of them still ran free. Poisoning the streets of Gotham with murder, mob activity, and even petty bike theft. A shiver, like a finger of ice, ran down her spine, causing her to curl up into an even tighter ball. Maybe if she made herself as small as possible, no one would notice her sitting on the curb. 

A warm hand landed gently on her shoulder. She jumped. Her head snapped up, her body instantly moving away from the hand and whoever was attached to it. Just in case they were dangerous or, and she only thought this for a split second, the bike thief coming back to get rid of his only witness. 

But the hand was attached to neither of those things. In fact, the hand belonged to a police officer. Crouching beside her on the curb. His police cruiser parallel parked to their left. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he said, his voice deep, intimidating, but not lacking in caring or softness, “I’m with GCPD, I’m here to help. Are you the one who called in about the stolen bike?” 

“Yeah — Yes. I am.” 

He was young. Maybe a few years older than her if she had to guess. He was probably a rooky cop they sent out on stupid cases like this. She could see from his name badge that his last name was Blake. Slightly tan skin, fit and lean, closely cropped dark hair. His ears kinda stuck out on either side of his head, but it only added to his boyish good looks that made Leena’s throat close up for a second. 

“Let’s take your statement in the cruiser, yeah? You must be freezing.” He cocked his head towards the parked police car, still running, beside them with a slight smile. 

His brown, deep-set eyes nearly disappeared when he did that. 

“Um — yeah. Yeah. That sounds good,” she said, nerves still dialed to 1,000 and hoping that once she was inside the police cruiser and relatively safe she would calm down. 

Officer Blake stood first and then offered her his hand. She picked up her bag and accepted it gladly. Her legs had nearly fallen asleep from sitting on the concrete for so long, and she couldn’t feel her bottom at all it was so cold. And once she was standing, she couldn’t help but take note of the fact that he was taller than her. But he wasn’t a giant — average height. Leera shook her head as she went around to the passenger side of the car. When did she ever  _ take note _ of someone’s height? Of the way their eyes disappeared when they smiled? Of their  _ boyish good looks _ ? He was just the police officer who was going to take a statement about the theft of her bike and hopefully take her home. That was it. 

_ Leena _ , she told herself as she slid into the passenger seat,  _ get a hold of yourself _ . 

Once Officer Blake was in the driver’s seat, he pulled a pad of paper and a pen from his belt. “So, can you tell me exactly what happened tonight?” 

“Well, I finished up over at the community center — “ 

“What do you do at the community center?” 

“Uh — I’m a volunteer. I teach art lessons to kids on Wednesdays and Fridays,” Leena answered as she stared into her lap. 

Officer Blake nodded. “So you finished up at the community center….” 

“Right. I left the building and walked the block west to that bike rack.” She pointed to the rack in question. 

“Why didn’t you use the bike rack in front of the community center?” he asked. 

“I like to leave room for more kids if they show up — plus it was full by the time I got there this afternoon, so.” She shrugged, wondering if he was just being thorough with his questioning or he was mocking her in some way. “But when I got to the bike rack there was already a guy standing there. He was wearing jeans, worker’s boots, and like a Carhartt-type jacket. I didn’t wanna be rude. I thought he was messing with his own bike — so I stayed back to give him some space. It looked like he was struggling or something so I asked if he needed help. He — uh — didn’t. Cause then he took off with my bike.” 

Officer Blake suppressed a laugh. 

“That’s not funny!” Leena was struggling to keep in her own laughter now. Now that she was telling the story, there was a bit more humor there than she thought. “Okay…Maybe it’s  _ a little _ funny.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” He coughed to cover up the remainder of his badly disguised chuckles. “Did you get a good look at the guy?” 

“I did.” 

She could see him perfectly in her head. Square face, stubbled jaw, heavy brow. But she didn’t know what to say to give him a proper description. 

“Can I get a description? Just as many details — “ 

“Uh — can I see your notepad?” Leena asked as she pulled one of the many pens from her bag. 

“Um, sure.” He handed it over with a look of apprehension. 

For a moment, she looked at the things he had written down. His handwriting was terrible, small chicken scratch letters that looked closer to Chinese calligraphy than English handwriting, but she could make out some things. He had written down her own description. Brown hair, blue eyes, around 5’5”, rosy cheeks,  _ pretty _ . She quickly flipped to a new page and began to sketch out the man she saw. Fighting down the sudden heat that was creeping up her neck. 

He thought she was  _ pretty _ ?

“This is easier than me trying to tell you,” she explained. 

“Right. Certainly saves the sketch artists some time,” he said. As her pen moved rapidly over the paper, she felt the car shift into gear. “Where do you live?” 

“Fashion District — Bayside Apartments.” 

“Nice area,” he commented as he pulled away from the curb. 

“It’s only nice for people you can afford to live at the Yards or the Ritz.” Leera scoffed. “Only live there cause my roommate’s a fashion designer — she's an assistant with one of those big-name brands that I can’t pronounce the name of. Bayside is an abandoned warehouse vaguely disguised as an apartment building.” 

She looked up from her sketch to see him smirking as he drove. She felt heat flooding her cheeks and neck, probably turning them a blotchy shade of red. “Sorry. You didn’t need to know that.” 

“It’s alright,” he answered, making her feel only slightly better. 

She finished up with the sketch and nodded in satisfaction. She reckoned that it looked enough like him for the police to use it. “There. Done.” 

He looked over at her finished product with raised brows. Then he smiled, his eyes disappearing for an instant. “Wow. Looks better than half the stuff our sketch artists come up with. Actually looks like a person.” 

“Thanks,” Leena chuckled. 

Her bag began to vibrate. It took her a moment to find her phone in the mess of sketch pads, paint supplies, and multicolored pens. But once she did, she saw that it was Jamie finally calling her back. Leena flipped open the phone in an angry huff. 

“I called you three times!” Leena hissed into the phone. 

“I know! Which is why I’m calling you back!” Jamie answered, not sounding bothered in the slightest. 

“Well, thanks to your inability to answer your damn phone — I’m now riding in a cop car!” She turned to Officer Blake and mouthed a  _ sorry _ but he brushed it off with a wave of his hand. 

“Wait — a cop car? Did you get arrested?” 

“No, I didn’t get arrested!” 

“Sounds like you to get arrested.” 

Leena looked over at Officer Blake to see if he heard that. If he had, he wasn’t giving it away. “No, it doesn’t. Look, he’s taking me home. I’ll be there in like…Two minutes. I’ll explain everything then.” 

“ _ He _ ? Is he cute? Did you check for a wedding ring?” 

“Goodbye, Jamie.” 

Leena hung up before roommate could say anything else embarrassing.

“Your friend seems, uh — Interesting,” Officer Blake commented. 

“Yeah, she’s great. She’s great.” 

As secretly as she could though, she glanced over to see if she could catch a glimpse of his left hand. His arm was perched on the sill of the window while he drove with his right hand. No wedding ring. She quickly looked back to the front of the vehicle and took a deep breath. That didn’t mean he was single. No wedding ring meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just like that weird fluttering feeling she was getting in her stomach meant nothing. Just like the sly little grin she saw out of the corner of her eye meant nothing. 

Nope. Not a thing. 

The car pulled up to Bayside’s main entrance and Leera sighed. Even though the place was terrible, it was still home. Drafty walls, leaky sinks, fluctuating heat functionality and all. It was cheap, close to Jamie’s job, and not too far from the various places Leera went to keep herself busy. 

“Can I have my notepad back please?” Leena handed it back with an embarrassed little smile. “Thanks. Now, I do have a few more questions for you, if that’s okay?” 

“Oh — yeah. That’s fine.” 

“Can I get a description of the bike that was stolen?” 

“It’s uh — bicycle. Sorry I don’t know models or anything. It’s bright orange with a white basket and…um — and it has white tassels on the handle bars.” 

Leena had always debated about whether or not she should remove the childish tassels that came on the bike that she got for ten dollars at a garage sale. But she could never truly convince herself to part with them. She liked the way they blew in the strong breezes her riding made. They reminded her of simpler times, when she had less cares and she genuinely believed she could do anything. 

She caught the small smile he flashed when she mentioned the tassels though and it made her heart soar. 

“Okay.” He nodded his head then added quickly, “And — uh — would you wanna go out on a date with me sometime?” 

A laugh burst from Leena’s chest before she could stop it. He looked nervous. Twiddling his pen between his fingers and biting down on his bottom lip. He was trying to control his expression, but his eyes held a kind of earnest hope that made her heart squeeze in her chest. 

“Are you even allowed to do that?” she asked. 

“Probably not.” He chuckled nervously. “But I think you’re really cute and ya know — I thought that, maybe — You thought — And that there was something — “ 

“I’ve got one condition,” she said, feeling a thrill in her chest. 

What the hell was she doing? 

He looked hopeful, excited even. “What’s that?” 

“You either have my bike when you come on this date,” she said, confused and excited by the words coming out of her own mouth, “Or you don’t show up at all.” 

For a moment, Leena was ecstatic. She had never done anything like this in her life. Challenge someone to something like this. Be so  _ cheeky _ . But when she saw the exasperated look on his face, she wilted like a houseplant someone forgot to water.  _ Oh no _ . Had she ruined everything before it even began? Just because she thought it would be fun to be mischievous for once? 

“I’m just — “ she started to say, but he cut her off. 

“You have yourself a deal.” 

Leena sprang back to life again. A wide smile enveloping her features. It nearly hurt her cheeks, she was smiling so hard. “My name’s Leena — by the way.” 

“John,” he replied with a soft smile, “I’m also gonna need your last name, phone number, date of birth, and address for the statement.” 

“That’s an odd way of asking for my — “ 

“Oh, no. I really need the information for the statement,” he said, tapping his pen on the notepad. 

Leena gave the rest of her information to Officer John Blake and then exited his vehicle with a sense of professionalism that barely disguised her excitement. Once she was inside the lobby she bolted to the industrial elevator and pressed the button for the fourth floor. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she could hardly contain herself. In fact, she had such a loose cap on her excitement that after a few moments of being alone in the elevator she squealed in delight. 

She had a date! Well…The  _ potential _ for a date! 

As soon as she opened the door to the apartment, Jamie bounced up from the couch to greet her. Jamie could have been a model if she wanted. But she would much rather design the clothes than wear them on the runway. She was tall and well toned from her years of college basketball with Gotham University. She had short, dark hair and a regal, hawk-like nose. 

“Oh my, God! Lee, what the hell happened?” she asked. 

Leena hung her bag on the coat rack with a smile. Then, turning to the small kitchen, she noticed the box of pizza sitting on the counter. 

“Did you order pizza?” 

“Yeah — to make up for the fact that I’m a terrible friend.” Jamie went over the box and flipped open the lid. 

It was Leena’s favorite. Banana peppers, black olives, and italian sausage. There were only a few pieces missing. Leena gratefully went over to the counter and pulled a slice from the box. She was starving — it was nearly seven-thirty. She hummed happily as she ate, sitting down in a bar stool. 

“Okay, you can be in my good graces again,” Leena said, half of her pizza slice already gone by the time she spoke. 

“So, come on.” Jamie sat down on the stool beside her. “Tell me what happened!” 

Leena took another bite. “I got a date!” 

“You got  _ a date _ ? With the cop?” Jamie asked, laughter curling around every word she spoke, “You didn’t save him for me?” 

“Hell no!” Leena grabbed another slice. “I haven’t been on a date in a year — plus you’re seeing that guy…Aaron?” 

“Oh that was a one time thing.” Jamie rolled her eyes. “Never date a model. Trust me. But — okay, so like, how did you end up with the cop in the first place?” 

“Right! Well, first my bike got stolen.” 

“The Orange Streak of Lightning?” 

“Yes. The Orange Streak. Anyway, it got stolen. I had no money for the bus or the train. I called  _ you  _ to see if you’d come pick me up.” Leena pointed an accusing finger at her roommate who only gave her a sorry smile in reply. “So I was forced to call the police and get a ride from them.” 

“Hey, if I’d answered my phone you wouldn’t have a date with a cute cop right now,” Jamie pointed out as she grabbed her own slice of pizza. 

Leena winced. “Well, here’s the thing…” 

“Oh, no.” 

“There’s no specific  _ day  _ yet. Cause uh — I maybe told him that he either showed up with my bike or there wasn’t a date at all.” Leena cringed at her own words. 

Jamie stared at her a moment. “ _ Why the hell would you say that _ ?” 

“I don’t know!” Leena anxiously stood up from her stool and began to pace nearly the entire length of their studio apartment. “It just came out of me! It was like I was a different person! I never say things like that! Why did I say that? I’m such an — “ 

“Did he agree to do it?” Jamie asked as her green eyes followed Leena’s pacing. 

Leena brought her fingernails to her mouth and bit down hard. “Yeah.” 

“Holy shit. He must think you’re pretty damn hot,” Jamie laughed. “What’d you do that left such an impression?” 

“Nothing!” Leena quickly jumped to her own defense. Even though there really was nothing to defend. “I — I gave him my statement. I sketched out the guy who stole my bike in his notepad. That’s it!” 

“Lee.” Jamie’s eyes turned soft. “When are you gonna realize that you actually are pretty damn hot?” 

Lenna pulled a face and squated down on the floor. Then finally sprawled out spread eagle on the wood flooring with the knit hat that had previously been on her head covering her face. Her insides felt like they were being pulled in every which direction. Up into her throat with excitement. Down to her feet with fear and embarrassment. Right after it had happened, it was all that she could think about.  _ He _ was all that she could think about. Officer John Blake. With his boyish grin and hard brown eyes. But now she was back to reality. Back to her dingy apartment where her only personal space was her bed surrounded by curtains. Back to herself, someone who wasn’t adventurous, flirtatious, or cheeky. Back to someone who regretted giving him that stupid challenge of finding her bike because what if this was her only chance of finding someone? Of finding someone after….

“I was so excited before,” Leena groaned, her face pulled down in a perpetual frown beneath her hat. 

“Why aren’t you excited now?” Jamie asked. 

Leena could feel Jamie lay down on the floor beside her and take her hand. 

“Cause all I can think about is — “ She turned her voice down to a whisper, afraid of saying it too loudly in fear that it may manifest some darkness. “Jacob.” 

Though Leena had her eyes covered, the light coming through the red knit of her hat, she could simply feel the harsh, ice cold scowl that had taken over Jamie’s face. If looks could kill, that one would surely make anyone drop dead. And a part of Leena that she had locked away for a very long time was crushing her on the inside once more. 

Jacob Grayson. She remembered when they first met. Freshman in high school, sitting next to each other at lunch because they didn’t know where else to go. He was perfect. He wore his blonde hair spiked up and had a shell necklace from his trip to the Bahamas that summer. They instantly clicked. And pretty soon, they were dating. Leena didn’t think they would ever  _ stop  _ dating. She pictured her entire life with Jacob. Graduating together. Going to college together at Gotham University. He would get a business degree while she pursued a degree in art. They would find good jobs in the city, get married, have kids. All of it. All of her formative years, she was with him. Molding her life around him and a fictional life she may have with him. They did graduate together. She did end up attending Gotham University for a few years but never graduated. Jacob chose to attend an out of state college with a better business program. Leena thought they could make long distance work. She still had high hopes for the life she had planned for them. 

But then he came to visit with the girl he had been cheating on Leena with. 

Jacob gave the excuse that he just forgot to break up with her. He thought nothing of it. But it was everything to Leena. And now she finally understood why someone could kill another person. Six years of her life — wasted. 

It took her a long time to get back on her feet. Months of laying around at her parent’s house. Then Jamie asked if she would move in with her. She got a job at the Sheridan Museum of Art as a personal tour guide. Leena slowly began to pick up the pieces of her life that a guy she thought she loved carelessly let fall to the floor. 

“Don’t talk about him,” Jamie said, “That’s your past. A past that is best left in the past.” 

“But — “ Leena ripped her hat from her face and rolled onto her side to look at Jamie. “What if — ?” 

“He won’t be like that, I’m sure.” Jamie rolled onto her side as well, tucking her hands beneath her head. “Jacob was a special kind of asshole. And if he happens to be of the same breed — let’s just say I’m not afraid to hit a cop, alright?” 

Leena flashed a wide grin that nearly instantly fell when her worries overcame her once more. “Do you really think I’m ready, Jay?” 

“I think you are more than ready, darling. Time to finally forget that son-of-a-bitch.”


	2. my city

“Why the heck would he want a private tour with me? He asked for  _ me _ specifically?” 

“Look that’s what he said over the phone, Leena.” 

“But did he say  _ why _ ?” 

“I’m so terribly sorry I didn’t take the time to ask Bruce frickin’ Wayne, one of the biggest patrans of the gallery,  _ why _ he asked for a tour from  _ you  _ specifically.” 

Leena blushed. “Sorry, Adeline. I just…”

“Don’t worry about it.” The blonde sitting behind the welcome desk smiled with a closed mouth. “I’d react the same way if I were in your shoes. A whole hour or more with Bruce Wayne….” 

Another tour guide jogged up to the front desk from the bowels of the gallery. Leena turned and watched her approach. Phoebe had a look of conspiracy and impression on her long face. She came to a halt beside Leena and elbowed her in the side.

“So are you gonna take  _ Mr. Wayne _ into one of the more…. _ Private _ rooms of the gallery?” Phoebe asked with a wicked smile. 

Leena rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the hot feeling that was spreading from her neck into her face. It was no secret about Gotham that Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, was extremely attractive and constantly single. She saw the tabloid covers as she stood in line at the grocery store. She even ran into him outside of a restaurant one time. But his sexual promiscuity was not what bothered her about giving him a private tour. It was more the fact that he was Bruce Wayne, billionaire enigma businessman that seemed to have intimidation come out of his very pores. Who was she to be giving him a tour of the galleries that he often bought from? A no-name artist who worked two jobs, one of which she hated, to make ends meet? That didn’t sound like the kind of girl that should be giving a Wayne tours of anything. 

“No I will not, Phoebe, Jesus!” Leena laughed.

“Oh, come on, have you seen him? Plus, you  _ know _ he’d be open to it. He’s slept with every hot girl in Gotham and beyond.” 

“Just cause he’s slept around doesn’t mean he’d be open to swapping spit in a broom closet with a random gallery tour guide.” Leena rolled her eyes. “Maybe he wants just a normal day out. Like anyone else.”

“God, you’re no fun,” Phoebe groaned. 

“I think we know from after hours drinks just how  _ fun _ Leena can be,” Adeline, the front desk girl, pitched in. 

Leena rolled her eyes again and smirked. She always told herself, after those nights out, that she would never fall into the temptation of going again. She always got way too drunk, being a lightweight that fell very easily under peer pressure. And because she always got way too drunk, she always ended up doing something she regretted. Like dancing on top of a table, kissing some random person in the dark corner of the bar they frequented, or possibly recreating dance scenes from Chicago with very little success. 

“Please stop,” Leena begged with a red face. 

“Excuse me ladies.” An older gentleman with an English accent approached the front desk. He looked very nice in a dark suit with white thinning hair. “I’m here for my tour of the gallery.” 

“Of course, what’s the name attached to the tour?” Adeline asked. 

Phoebe squeezed Leena’s arm and wiggled her eyebrows before she trotted off, back into the gallery. And Leena was about to do the same, but — 

“Bruce Wayne. I run his house and am looking for some new work to be put up. I believe I set aside a tour guide already?” the old man said. 

“Oh, yes, you did.” Adeline typed on the computer for a moment, giving Leena a bit of side-eye as she did so. “You’ll be touring with Ms. Duckett.” 

Leena let out a breath. A sudden wash of relief and disappointment running through her. She knew that the gallery was the place for many of Gotham’s most elite families to buy art for their various homes throughout the world. Rich folk wanting to support local artists. But she had never given a tour to any actual members of those families. It was always the butlers, the house runners, the managers, the publisists even. But they always state that it is the butler or the house runner coming to assess new pieces that have been put up. So when Bruce Wayne’s actual name was logged into the system, Leena really thought it was going to be him walking through the halls of their gallery. Really laying his eyes on the art and choosing it for himself rather than someone else choosing it for him and barely even noticing that it was hung in his manor. The disappointment didn’t last long, however. 

Leena stepped towards the old man with a smile. “And I am Ms. Duckett. A pleasure to meet you…”

“Alfred, miss.” He held out his hand and she shook it. 

“Well, right this way, Alfred.” She gestured for them to enter the gallery and she began to lead. “We’ll start with our glassworks suite — “ 

They entered the first room of the gallery. The Shefield Gallery was extensive, housing several different mediums of art from a variety of artists. Pure white walls to offbalance the bright pops of color that the artwork created, heightening the customer intrigue. In this first room there were at least fourteen pedestals strewn about the room, each one holding a different piece of glass artwork. Leena liked to look at glasswork, but would probably never attempt creating any herself. Molten glass just seemed a little too dangerous for her taste. 

“Actually, sorry to be a bother, but I was hoping to look at something specific on this trip.” Alfred pulled a piece of paper from his suit jacket pocket. He unfolded it and handed it to Leena. “A piece specifically requested by Master Wayne.” 

Leena stopped them and took the piece of paper with raised brows. It was a print out from the gallery’s website. Her eyes widened. 

That was  _ her painting _ . Put up in the employee suite of the gallery after much begging and finally the curator taking pity on her for being a slightly hungry artist. 

She looked back up at Alfred to see him smiling at her. She quickly regained herself and asked, “Um — are you sure it’s this one that Mr. Wayne wants?” 

“Yes. That’s the one.” 

With a resigned nod and a thick swallow, Leena led Alfred to the employee suite. She could feel her fingers going numb. Bruce Wayne wanted  _ her _ painting? Really? He asked for it specifically? She was sure that the old man had to be lying to her for her benefit. Playing some sort of weird joke that ended with her humiliated and a playboy billionaire laughing at the footage of her misfortune. Or maybe there was no farce and the man really did like her painting so much he wanted to buy it and hang it in his home. Leena rubbed at her neck. He would be the first person to ever like her work enough to do so. 

They came to the employee suite and Leena stopped them in front of the painting in question. She put her head down as Alfred looked at it. His thin lips were quirked up in a small smile but she couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. 

“Pick your head up, miss,” he said, “I know you painted this.” 

“Is that why you asked for me for your tour?” Leena asked. 

“It is indeed.” His smile widened. “Master Wayne wanted me to see what kind of person could paint something like that.” 

He pointed to the canvas and Leena furrowed her brows. She turned to the painting herself. Was there some vulgar message she, the artist, had missed? No. She couldn’t see it. All she saw was a portrait of Gotham at night. Done in oil paints on a medium sized canvas, Leena had always been told she leaned too far into her impressionist influences. But she couldn’t help it. Ordinary subject matter with a heightened sense of romanticism and color was something that Leena was just drawn too. The painting was Gotham at night, looking out over the skyline with the lights from the offices and apartments shining brightly, as if the viewer were looking down from the highest story of some building or other. In the glowing rooms in the foreground, people could be seen. Families, tired office workers, friends getting together. 

She had titled the painting  _ My City _ . 

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” she said, turning back to Alfred. 

“Master Wayne sees Gotham as a dark place — a place full of hate, injustice, and cruelty,” Alfred said. 

Leena pulled a face. “While I will not disagree with Mr. Wayne — Gotham is full of the worst kinds of things — but it is also still worth saving. And loving. And living in if only to save it and love it more.” 

Alfred smiled, a soft and knowing thing that made Leena’s eyes narrow. 

“And Master Wayne would agree with that sentiment as well.” He turned to the painting again, hands clasped behind his back. “Which is why he was drawn to your work so much. You share similar views on a city that many have lost faith in — a rare find, especially in art form.” 

Leena was puzzled. Bruce Wayne grew up in Gotham, just like she did. But they saw completely different sides of Gotham. Wayne saw only the elite, the rich, the famous side. The side that lived in penthouse suites, owned entire blocks of buildings, and could afford to eat at those fancy restaurants downtown. The faces of Gotham City. While Leena saw the hands and feet, the workers and the heart and soul of Gotham. The side that worked fifty hour weeks, lived in the slums, and had to cut up and burn their own furniture to keep warm. Gotham wasn’t worth saving because of the side that Bruce Wayne saw, that made it worth damnation. Gotham was worth saving because of what Leena saw. 

“Um — well — uh — I…I don’t really know what to say. I wish I could tell Mr. Wayne thank you in person.” 

Alfred seemed to get an idea. “How about you deliver the painting in person to Wayne Manor? Tomorrow perhaps? You could thank him in person and he would get to meet the artist behind the painting that has captivated him for so long. That is, if you are free, of course.” 

“Well, if he wanted to do that he could have come himself today.” Leena couldn’t stop the words before they came out of her mouth. 

Her eyes widened as she stared at Alfred. God, she really needed to learn how to control her mouth. She could feel her neck heating up and her face paling all at the same time. Her face scrunched up as she closed her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t look at him he would just go away or she would just sink into the floor. Either option would spare her from the agonizing embarrassment ripping through her right now. 

“I’m so — “ 

Alfred chuckled. He actually started  _ laughing _ . A polite and somehow very British thing that had Leena’s eyes flying open. 

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Ms. Duckett,” he chuckled out, “But Master Wayne has turned into a bit of a recluse as of late. And I really do think he would appreciate meeting you.” 

Leena bit down hard on her lip. If it meant making the $500 the painting was priced at, she was willing to do anything honestly. Even it meant borrowing Jamie’s car and meeting the actual Bruce fricking Wayne himself. That was enough money to pay her half of the rent for the month and she only had to do one thing. Not work her ass off at two different jobs. Her need for the money more than outweighed her apprehensions about meeting a billionaire and talking to him about her art and her thoughts on Gotham. 

“Alright. Tomorrow at three o’clock. Is that an okay time?” 

“Oh, yes. Just in time for tea.” 

  
  


“Please could you stop the noise? I’m trying to get some rest,” Leena sang as she cleaned her paint brushes, “From all the unborn chicken voices in my head!” 

She moved back to the canvas she had set up by the windows overlooking the city. Who knew getting a meeting with one of Gotham’s most influential men would give her inspiration for a new painting? The reference photo of Bruce Wayne was tacked into the corner of the canvas. She had gotten the idea on the train ride and subsequent bus ride back to her apartment when her shift at the gallery was over. Something about Bruce Wayne being a recluse and seeing the good in Gotham just gave her a spark of inspiration. A spark of inspiration to lesson her fears about meeting the man by painting him as a vigilante sasquatch. 

It was at least making her feel better about the whole thing. Jamie had walked in from her own work shift with many questions about it. But Leena had only held up a finger for patience and put her headphones back in. Jamie knew what that meant. Her roommate had had a weird day and needed to vent through her art. 

Leena continued to paint for some time. Lost in the music and the colors and shapes that flowed from her paintbrush. Leena’s mother had given her paints and paper when she was very little as a distracting craft while she tried to clean around the house. But her mother could not have known that that would have sparked a lifelong love for art and painting. A dedication to get better and better and find her own style. Winning contests, medals, and even studying art in college. Leena felt the most at home when she was painting. Felt the most herself when she had a brush in her hand and a vision in her head that just needed to be let out. 

This was one of those ideas she just knew would consume her every waking, and possibly sleeping, thought until she got it out and onto the canvas. Vigilante sasquatch Bruce Wayne was going to camp out in her cerebral cortex until she had brought him to life. Trekking through the woods, covered in body hair, wearing a stupid bright red face mask. If he thought the city was so worth saving, then why didn’t he give money to the police department so they had the tools to catch the criminals loose on Gotham’s streets? Why didn’t he donate money to improve Gotham’s infrastructure, education, hospitals, mental health services, or literally anything else besides funneling money into his own company? 

If she were to see him right now, she would have a piece of her mind to give him that was — 

Her phone started vibrating in the pocket of her apron. Leena groaned. She had gotten into such a good groove, too. She pulled out her iPod first and paused her music. Then she flipped open her phone and held it up to her ear. She didn’t even bother to see who was calling. Her mother usually called around that time of day anyway. 

“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” she asked as she pinched the phone between her cheek and shoulder. 

“Uh — “ A distinctly male voice came through. “Sorry, this is John Blake. Were you expecting your mom to call you? Cause I can call back later.” 

_ Oh, God _ . After realizing that, in her euphoria, she had forgotten to get his number, she had been waiting to hear from him for nearly two days. 

“Oh, shit,” she said, quickly wiping her paint stained hands off on her apron, “Um, no — sorry. Sorry. I wasn’t — with my mom. I can talk now. Officer Blake — John. Officer Blake?” 

At the mention of that name, Jamie peeked her head out from the gap in the curtains surrounding her bed with a look of pure interest on her face. Mouth open and her eyebrows raised as she looked across the room. Leena shooed her away with a wave of her hand and an uncontrollable smile. 

“You can just call me John,” he laughed, “You getting around okay without the bike?” 

“Uh, yeah. Taking the train and the bus — definitely throwing my budget out of whack but — that doesn’t matter…At all.” Leena glanced over at Jamie, still listening in, only to see her roommate roll her eyes. 

When did she get so terrible at talking to men? 

“Well, I have some good news for you.” Leena could feel her heart jump into her mouth, making her physically stand on tip toe and stare out the window as he continued to speak. “I found it. So — uh, where do you wanna go for our date?” 

Leena squeezed her eyes shut, the smile on her face nearly hurting her cheeks as she tilted her head towards the ceiling. Was this really happening? After Jacob, she didn’t know if she would ever find anyone else. If she would be willing to put herself out there like that again. But with John, something felt different. He was safe, kind, and somehow she just knew that he would never hurt her like Jacob did. She twirled around once and she could hear Jamie whispering, asking what was going on. Leena ignored her roommate. 

“How about Superdawg?” 

_ Superdawg? _ Jamie mouthed with an unbelieving face. 

“That hotdog place over by Robinson Park?” 

“Uh, yeah.” 

She heard him chuckle. “Sorry. I just suppose I expected you to pick something a bit more…I don’t know…”

“I’m not a fancy kind of girl, trust me.” Leena laughed. “We could eat and then maybe take a walk around the park or something? If that sounds good to you — I don’t — “ 

“No, that — that sounds great, actually. Honestly, kinda glad you didn’t pick something fancy.” 

“Okay, cool.” Leena looked over at Jamie with raised brows and a wide smile. “Uh, what time?” 

“Saturday — tomorrow at six? I can pick you up?” 

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll see you then.” 

“See you then, Leena.” She loved the sound of him saying her name. “Bye.” 

“Bye.” She flipped her phone closed and turned to face Jamie with fists triumphant in the air. “I have a date! And I’m getting my bike back!” 


End file.
